


The Sly Fox and the Little Red Hen

by liminallamb



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Mimzy, Biting, Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Lesbian Rosie, Lesbian Sex, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pet Names, in which everyone studies various subjects within the performing arts, lots of musical and literature references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liminallamb/pseuds/liminallamb
Summary: Friends with benefits, Mimzy called it. Rosie called it uncouth.
Relationships: Past Alastor/Mimzy (Hazbin Hotel), Rosie/Mimzy (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	The Sly Fox and the Little Red Hen

**Author's Note:**

> this is an edited, remastered reupload of a fic I deleted a little while ago!
> 
> my knowledge of performing arts departments is based entirely in my own experiences studying theatre in the UK, so I apologise if any of it is inaccurate to the way things work in the US!

To the eye of an outsider, Pentagram College's performing arts department wasn't much to marvel at.

The facilities could be called "decrepit", with a single scuffed stage and a rusting lighting rig to its name, both bordering on condemned and threatening to fall apart with the slightest nudge. Some poor kid had actually been sent to _hospital_ over a falling stage light, and it was a blessing that the college had been able to talk his parents out of suing.

The sound system was several decades out of date, the seats in the auditorium were torn and spilling their stuffing through the rips, and the workshops seemed more like psychological and physical torture than training for the budding performer.

But despite everything, Pentagram College had one _hell_ of a theatrically-minded student body, and towering above the irrelevant events of the other departments was the annual showcase. A chance for the students of the department to step up and show St. Michael's College across the city exactly what determination, ambition and talent could achieve, even without top-of-the-range technology and world-renowned teachers.

It was important. It was _essential_. And it was the reason why Mimzy was huddled in the staff room half an hour before her scheduled performance of _Adelaide's Lament_ , her third cup of shitty instant coffee clutched in her hands and her leg bouncing anxiously, experiencing stage fright for the first time in her life.

Cursing softly, she set the cup down on the coffee table and stood on shaky legs, beginning to pace in an attempt to burn off some of her excess energy. The caffeine definitely hadn't helped, but she'd been nervous before that - so nervous, in fact, that her nails were bitten down to the quick.

She forced herself to stand still and took a deep, long-suffering breath, sweeping her neat blonde hair back from her face so it wouldn't mar her makeup. "C'mon, Mimz…" she muttered aloud, "You're alright. You've rehearsed, haven't'cha? You know what you're doin'."

A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her that talking to oneself is the first sign of madness, and she conceded with another long sigh, rocking on the balls of her feet as though it might cancel out the butterflies in her stomach.

It didn't, of course, and instead made her feel like she wanted to throw up.

She didn't quite register the sound of heels clicking loudly on the linoleum outside until the staff room door was flung open behind her, making her jump a foot.

" _Here_ you are!"

The scent of musky floral perfume was her only warning before long, slender arms wrapped firmly around her waist, and like a ticking timebomb finally detonated, Mimzy exploded.

She swore and thrashed as the intruder somehow expertly avoided her well-aimed kick backwards with a twitch of their hips. Her elbow jerked sharply instead, and the arms around her middle released her in favour of bursting her eardrums with an affronted shriek. 

"That was my _chest_!"

"Serves ya fuckin' right!" Mimzy seethed, whirling around to jab a finger at the woman behind her. "Read the fuckin' room, Rosie, I ain't in the mood!"

Rosie's dark eyes narrowed, her arms folded tightly over her chest to avoid another attack. She looked flushed and breathless, her pale cheeks pinker than usual and a few wisps of ash blonde hair escaping her carefully pinned updo. She swept them back impatiently with her long elegant fingers and smiled, showing a flash of startlingly sharp teeth. "Now, what _ever_ is the matter with you?"

"Nothin'," Mimzy groused, placing her hands standoffishly on her hips. She hesitated sullenly, staring at a particularly interesting square of carpet. "Well. Y'know. I ain't feelin' too good, but I'm _fine_."

Lying wouldn't do any good, and she knew it; Rosie could see through people like glass. As if she'd read her mind, the taller woman leant down to her level, tilting her head curiously. "You _do_ look a little monk," she cooed, catching Mimzy's chin in her hand and turning her face this way and that. "Stage fright?"

Mimzy had no idea what monk meant¹, but she decided she didn't care. Rosie was essentially a walking dictionary and she had long since given up trying to understand how she crammed so many ridiculous words into that pretty little head, or why exactly she hadn't made it into St. Michael's when she was clearly more than capable.

She supposed it was only fair that the two colleges had an even split of insufferable smartasses - and it was just her rotten luck to end up with two of them. Tall ones, to boot.

Rosie was difficult to decipher at the best of times, but despite regularly driving Mimzy up the wall with her smarmy, self-satisfied grin and silver tongue, she was, at the end of the day, a good friend. She would even go so far as to say an _exceptional_ one. She had been drawn to her almost imperceptibly, taken in by her warmth, her endearing and annoying habit of sticking her nose in where she wasn't wanted, and her elegance and class that seemed long lost to modern society. She and Alastor were a double act of outdated music hall quips and inside jokes, and from the moment she'd met them at college orientation Mimzy had wanted in.

She'd joined their strange, exclusive little club of old souls, just the three of them. Her brief and impassioned fling with Alastor had ultimately ended in an, in hindsight, hilariously awkward breakup over coffee; tears in her Americano, Alastor's frustrating lack of sympathy (why was she surprised, again?) and his agonisingly clear relief at being able to finally, _finally_ put this damned relationship behind him… and Rosie, sat beside them with a paperback copy of _Dorian Gray_ in her elegant hands and a handkerchief at the ready, to be whipped out when Alastor took his hasty leave and Mimzy finally let bitter sobs wrack her shoulders.

It was Rosie who had brusquely wrapped an arm around her and mopped the tears from her cheeks, Rosie who had taken her back to her dorm, scolding Alastor colourfully at every step until she saw a watery smile on Mimzy's lips, Rosie who had coaxed a mug of hot tea into her hands and put a vinyl full of showtunes on the record player and sat down beside her to make idle conversation until she could almost forget about Alastor and his stupid, smug, handsome face and his awful, charming _grin_ -

"He's a silly boy," Rosie had told her, licking her finger and smoothly turning the page of her book. Mimzy had watched, perhaps more closely than she should have, and swallowed. 

"Don't think he really gets how bad it hurts, y'know?"

Rosie had laughed, short and sharp, and shut her book with a _snap_. "Oh, he understands _perfectly_. It's a game to him, darling." She set her book down on the arm of the couch and smiled impishly. "I would have warned you weeks ago, but you looked like you were having so much _fun_."

Mimzy laughed wetly, wiping her reddened eyes on the blanket around her shoulders. "Yeah, 'cuz I reckoned he loved me. You're lucky you ain't never fell for him, Rosie. When I tell you he's the goddamn devil…" she trailed off with a snuffle and poked one shaking hand out from under the blanket, holding it out palm-up. "Handkerchief."

"Mm," Rosie hummed, retrieving her handkerchief from the breast pocket of her blouse. "I wouldn't say _lucky_ , dear. He's certainly not my type."

"Oh yeah?" Mimzy took the offered handkerchief and blew her nose loudly, smirking when she saw Rosie wince. She was a stickler for manners. "Have you even _got_ a type? No offense-"

"None taken."

"-but I always just thought you were… what's the word? Frigid?" She shrugged, scrunching the handkerchief into a ball in her fist. "I don't know. I guess I didn't think you were interested in all that business." 

A beat.

"Husk fancies you, a bit."

"How flattering."

"I'm just _saying_ , if you ever wanna, y'know, take the pressure off-"

"I'm well aware of Husker's ridiculous penchant for me, Mimi, as would you be if he spoke to your tits rather than your face. Though, I suppose from way down there it must be rather hard to tell."

"Fuck, alright then! Didn't realise it was such a fuckin' touchy subject. Jeez. Ya don't hafta be rude about it."

Silence. Mimzy sniffed, wrapped her arms around her knees, and dared a sidelong glance at Rosie's stiff profile.

"...you don't… like _girls_ , do ya?" She asked doubtfully. "'cuz I wouldn't've pegged ya as the type, but it's fine if ya do. More than fine. I-"

"Yes."

"Oh."

The silence dragged on, and Mimzy rolled the new information over in her mind. She opened her mouth and shut it again. Then-

"Yeah. Me too." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Guys 'n dolls."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." 

"Mm."

Mimzy licked her lips and tasted salt. "I've always thought you were pretty, y'know?"

Beside her, Rosie sat bolt upright and shifted to look at her. "Mimi," she began, warning clear in her tone. "Don't- no. I refuse to be your rebound-"

"Hey!" Struggling out of the restraints of the blanket, Mimzy shook her head furiously. "No, no, that's not what I meant! You really thought I'd- god, _Rosie_ -"

"Well, that's certainly what it sounded like!"

"No, I _mean_ it!" Mimzy replied earnestly. "I _mean_ it. And… maybe not now, not so soon after-"

" _Definitely_ not now," Rosie snapped, her cheeks flushed bright pink as though she had dusted them liberally with rouge. She took in Mimzy's wide eyes, her quivering lip, and sighed.

Soft as butter she was, where women like Mimzy were concerned.

"Not _now_ ," she repeated gently. Her arm found it way around her friend's shoulders again and squeezed. She pressed a quick kiss to her damp cheek.

"Maybe we'll get there. Give it time, Mimi."

And give it time they had. Months of agonising chasteness, of Rosie being achingly responsible and restrained, until one night a party, a few too many drinks and a light push and a pep talk from a very drunk blonde twink had landed them both here, teetering on the strange threshold of _friends_ and _more than_.

Friends with benefits, Mimzy called it. Rosie called it uncouth.

~~~

Batting her hand away, Mimzy scowled. "I don't get stage fright," she hissed through clenched teeth. "It's just that everyone else is so... _good_."

"So are you. Besides, it's a showcase, darling, not a competition," Rosie chided gently, sitting down on the scratchy staff room couch and arranging her skirts carefully over her lap. "There's no point system. As long as you do your best-"

"I don't wanna just do my best, 'cause my _best_ right now is not breakin' the fuck down!" Mimzy interrupted, far louder and sharper than she had intended. Rosie fell silent, raising an eyebrow reproachfully, and Mimzy pressed her lips together, feeling suddenly guilty. She sat down beside her friend with a sigh and folded her arms, leaning back in her seat to avoid Rosie's eyes. "Sorry, didn't mean ta' yell. I'm just on edge, y'know?"

"Hm." Rosie made a noncommittal noise and suddenly the soft weight of her head fell against Mimzy's shoulder, one arm draping comfortably over her lap. "Poor thing. Is there anything I can do?"

Mimzy barked out a laugh. "Apart from stoppin' me makin' another cup of coffee? No, baby." She turned to bury her face in Rosie's neat blonde hair, shakily breathing in her smell of perfume and vanilla as her hands found traction on the front of her dress and pawed her closer.

"How'd yours go, anyway?" She mumbled eventually. She'd been watching Rosie rehearse her rendition of _Just Leave Everything to Me_ nonstop for the last month, so often that the earworm of a song had become inescapably lodged in her brain. She often found herself humming it mindlessly and cursing her friend's tendency to favour the catchiest tunes, as sweet as her voice was.

"Oh, you know," Rosie began tactfully, shrugging her thin shoulders, made to look broader by the period-accurate shoulder inserts of her dress. "It was quite good, I suppose. Professor Magne told me my rendition was better than Barbara Streisand², but I think she was just being sweet."

Despite her attempt at graciousness for Mimzy's sake, her voice was tight with barely contained glee and that flushed, breathless look was back, as though she were holding back her ego on a leash. Mimzy rolled her eyes and shook her roughly by the shoulder.

"Cut the crap," she grumbled. "It wasn't just _quite good_ , you're lyin'."

Rosie bit her lip to try and suppress her grin. "Well, it's difficult to judge one's own performance, but Professor Magne certainly seemed to-"

"We get it, you're wet for Professor Magne."

"Vulgar. But _touché_ ," Rosie admitted with a flippant grin. "Who _isn't_? She's beautiful, talented, ambitious, intelligent…" she pressed closer, her body warm against Mimzy's side. "Just- like- you."

She punctuated each word with a peck, landing the last one on her friend's lips. Even when she pulled back she stayed close, admiring the soft pink blush dusting Mimzy's cheeks and nose and the pleased gleam in her bright blue eyes. "Adorable," she chuckled. "Even if you couldn't hold a tune to save your life you'd earn a round of applause just for looking so sweet."

"Pff-" Mimzy gave her a playful shove, grinning reluctantly. "You fuckin' sap. You gonna kiss me properly or what?"

She wrapped her arms around Rosie's shoulders and tugged her down to her level, resting their foreheads together. With a delighted giggle, Rosie pressed forwards and captured her lips, her lashes ghosting against Mimzy's face as her eyes slid shut.

The kiss was languid and chaste, melting Mimzy's heightened nerves as she gently kissed back, her hands toying with the sweet little curls resting against the nape of Rosie's neck. She felt slender fingers closing in her own golden-blonde waves and smiled against Rosie's maraschino-cherry lips, parting her own as a subtle invitation.

~~~

The chasteness didn't last long; it never did, and before long their open mouths and desperate tongues were pressed flush together, hot and slick and bruising.

"Mmf- Rosie-" Mimzy managed breathlessly, gently nudging her away. "Rosie- We can't, baby, not here, it ain't private." She sighed, watching as Rosie sat back and tucked her legs up onto the couch, her face a mask of barely concealed disappointment. "What a pity. I wanted to wish you luck, give you a proper send-off," she teased gently.

Mimzy laughed and held her arms out, taking her into them and letting her nuzzle and sigh against her neck. She sucked in a breath when warm lips pressed against her skin, scattering a slow flurry of kisses up towards her ear, where they ghosted over her earlobe.

"There's a lock on the door," Rosie whispered, sending a shiver through her. "So. Why-"

_Kiss._

"Don't-"

_Kiss._

"We-"

A kiss pressed just under her ear, hot and open-mouthed, with a dangerous hint of teeth.

"Use it?"

Mimzy took another shuddering breath and pressed her fingers into Rosie's back, then again into her hair, where she worked the soft blonde strands free from their pins as best she could. "Well, now you're just temptin' me."

"Hmm?" Rosie cooed, lifting her head and raising one eyebrow mischievously. "Oh, I am, am I?"

"Yeah," Mimzy breathed. She dropped her hands from Rosie's hair and gave her a soft shove. "Go lock it then. Let's make it quick."

Grinning like the cat that got the cream, Rosie swung her legs off the couch and moved to the door, idly toying with a loose curl hanging by her cheek as she clicked the latch shut. She brought a finger to her mouth and bit it softly, her dark eyes sliding hungrily over her friend's body.

"You just gonna stand there?" Mimzy quirked an eyebrow challengingly.

Rosie mirrored her expression mockingly, slipping back onto the couch beside her and pressing herself so close that Mimzy had to lean back, supporting herself with her elbow as soft lips found her neck once more, kissing hot and wet down to where her dress met the juncture of her shoulder.

"Don't leave marks," she reminded breathlessly as Rosie sucked gently at her collarbone, exposed by the plunging neckline of her dress. "Remember that time I had to go to lunch with my mom covered in fuckin' hickeys?"

Rosie broke away to laugh, licking her lips. " _Hilarious._ "

"My mom didn't think so," Mimzy shot back, unable to stop herself from grinning.

A slender finger traced her throat as she swallowed, trailing down to her ample cleavage. "They look so pretty on you," Rosie sighed, batting her eyes with the ridiculous forced innocence of a baby animal in a Disney cartoon.

"Yeah, mom thought I was a real class act. Surprised she didn't just call me a whore to my face." Mimzy's fingers found the little pearl buttons at Rosie's chest and began to pluck them open. "What was I even supposed to say? 'Sorry you had to see this, mom, my fuck buddy has an oral fixation'?" 

Before Rosie could draw breath to object to the term _fuck buddy_ Mimzy sighed lustily, finally pulling the front of her dress open to expose the pale swell of the tops of her breasts. " _There_ we are."

Rosie's breath stuttered satisfyingly as Mimzy moved in to kiss and lick her way down her slender throat to her chest, pausing to take the soft skin between her teeth and gently nibble it. The hand not holding her up kneaded into the arch of Rosie's lower back, eventually coaxing a sweet little broken mewl from her lips.

Mimzy released the grip of her teeth and chuckled, forcing Rosie's back to arch further as she pulled their bodies flush together. "That was an awful pretty noise," she teased, grinning as slim hands pushed at her shoulders, urging her to lay back. "Am I gonna hear it again?"

"Unlikely," Rosie purred, her satiny voice dropping an octave as Mimzy conceded and settled back on the couch. The hand stroking at the base of her spine was making her squirm in the best possible way, and she ducked her head to sigh tremulously against the swell of Mimzy's breasts. Her lips trailed lower, between her breasts and to her sternum, where she mouthed gently over the fabric of the shorter woman's dress, being careful not to mar it.

Mimzy's hands had wound into her hair, her dainty fingers carding through it, and encouraged by her touch and her soft, quick breaths, Rosie dipped her head further down, her lips now tracing Mimzy's stomach.

"What're you- hey, _hey_!" Mimzy warned. She grabbed a handful of Rosie's loose blonde curls and tugged her head up, making her gasp. Grimacing apologetically, she relinquished her hold and held her hands up. "Sorry, doll."

"Going to give me whiplash," Rosie groused, though she was terribly flushed. She rested her cheek against Mimzy's stomach, tracing the patterns of her dress with the sharp red tip of a nail. "I had an idea to help you relax," she purred idly, "but if you'd prefer not to…"

Mimzy took in a shuddering breath, squirming slightly under the constant, teasing scratch of Rosie's nail on her belly. The silence, but for their quickened breathing and the muffled music from the auditorium, was heavy with expectancy. "What… what did'ja have in mind?"

Rosie's finger stopped moving and she looked up through her thick lashes, her eyes smouldering. "If you're willing, I could eat you."

Mimzy's breath caught in her throat and a shiver of want, unbidden, shot up her spine like electricity as she stared down at the taller blonde. As if revelling in her gaze, Rosie's thin brows arched wickedly, a smirk curling her kiss-flushed lips as she slowly, tortorously ran her tongue across them.

Mimzy swallowed hard.

"Don't- word it like that," she mumbled, trying to sound scathing and succeeding in nothing but sounding immensely flustered. "Gonna give people the wrong idea."

Even turning her head to look at the pinboard on the wall instead of at Rosie's face, she could sense that wicked grin widening tauntingly.

"Would you prefer I say 'cunnilingus' instead?" she drawled silkily, her breath hot against Mimzy's stomach. Her nail resumed it's steady looping trace over the fabric of her dress, forcing her to take another woefully shaky breath.

"Fuck. No. Don't ever fuckin' say that again, that was awful."

Rosie laughed openly, and Mimzy looked back down at her with a reluctant grin of her own, a fiery blush staining her cheeks. "Yeah, laugh it up," she grumbled. She craned her neck awkwardly backwards to check the latch on the door, making sure it was securely locked.

" _A-hem._ "

"What? What d'ya want?" Mimzy snipped, looking back down at her mock-irritably.

"What do _you_ want?" Rosie shot back, managing to look both idle and amused despite the rapid rise and fall of her chest against Mimzy's lower belly discounting both. "You're on in twenty minutes, sweetpea."

The showcase. A shock of icy fear ran through Mimzy's body, quickly soothed by Rosie's lips on her sternum again, kissing with surprising chasteness and so feather light she could have shrugged it off if she wanted to.

_If_ she wanted to.

Letting out a long, trembling breath, one of her plump hands returned to Rosie's head and pushed gently, insistently, urging her down between her legs.

Rosie giggled, infuriatingly saccharine, and pushed up against her hand like a cat. "Is that a yes?"

"Just get down there," Mimzy huffed, hiding her grin with her other hand.

With a grin of her own, Rosie set her hands on Mimzy's hips and pushed her satiny dress up, bunching it carefully at her waist as she slid herself down to settle between the shorter woman's legs. She immediately turned her head and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive, milky skin of her inner thigh, teeth barely grazing the soft flesh as she sucked gently, her lashes fluttering.

Mimzy cooed and let her thighs fall open as heat washed over her, soothing her nerves in an instant. The hand on Rosie's head tightened in her hair, her fingers curling into the soft blonde strands and pulling gently, trying to guide her elsewhere.

A sudden sharp pain where blissful warmth and pressure had been just a moment ago made Mimzy yelp and tug at the handful of hair clutched in her fist. She glared down accusingly at Rosie, who was smirking slyly against a new red mark on her thigh. "You bit me!"

"Because you need to learn _patience_ ," Rosie chuckled, her hot breath ghosting over the new, sensitive mark. Mimzy had a sudden urge to grab her by the front of her dress, kiss that wicked smirk off her face and show her how impatient she could really be - but she held her tongue, scowling.

"You're a caution, y'know that?"

"Mmh." Rosie stroked her thigh gently with the pad of her thumb, her eyes lidded into dark jet chasms. Then, quick as a whip, she turned to Mimzy's other thigh and nipped that too.

"For fuck's _sake_!" Mimzy cried, the crack in her voice betraying her. Between her legs, Rosie smirked and traced the mark with her nail. "Symmetry, petal," she purred. "You'll forgive me for being pernickety, I'm sure."

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later."

Rosie licked her lips and settled her gaze on the silky swell of Mimzy's panties, where the damp evidence of her desire was already apparent - simply _adorable_ , how she could so easily dismantle her - and pressing her own thighs together under her dress, she delicately trailed the tip of her tongue over the slick fabric.

Mimzy gasped and clutched at her loosened hair like a lifeline, trying desperately to hold her in place, but as quickly as the sweet pressure of her tongue had rested there it was gone, licking instead along the strip of creamy skin between her dress and the lacy waistband of her panties.

"Rosie, _please_ ," she whined, arching her hips up pleadingly. Rosie's only response was an airy giggle and a finger hooked into her waistband, but not quite pulling it down. She rested her chin daintily atop Mimzy's crotch and gazed up at her expectantly.

"While it's _lovely_ that you're finally using your manners-"

"You're walkin' on thin ice, Rosie, I swear to God."

"-I'm afraid you're going to have to be a little more specific." The taller blonde pressed the pad of her thumb into the hot, slick patch on Mimzy's panties and rubbed it back and forth almost imperceptibly, but it was more than enough to make her friend groan through gritted teeth and toss her head back.

"God, stop runnin' your mouth and put it on me _right now_!" She hissed, giving the blonde locks clenched in her fist a purposeful tug. Rosie moaned breathlessly, her lashes fluttering, and Mimzy felt a stab of pride as she noted the glimmer of submission in those obsidian eyes. Not many were able to make Rosie yield to them, and she took great pride in being one of the few that could.

It certainly had the desired effect. With an almost embarrassed glance upwards, Rosie slid her slender fingers under the waist of Mimzy's panties and pulled them down slowly, leaving them around her knees as she adjusted her grip to hold tightly onto her friend's plump thighs, her nails leaving little crescent indents in the soft skin.

"Oh, sweetheart, look at you…" she whispered delightedly, pressing a kiss to the patch of soft blonde hair at the juncture of her thighs. "You're soaked, honey."

"'Course I am," Mimzy scoffed, one hand pressed over the lower half of her face in an attempt to hide her fiery blush. "You gonna do somethin' about it?"

There was something about that piercing hawk's gaze that made Mimzy feel _seen_ , and sometimes she couldn't be sure if that was a good thing or not - Rosie always watched her like prey, keen and hungry, and awakened in her the exciting, dangerous notion that she might be defying the storybook traditions her mother had taught her as a child.

_"The little red hen cut a hole in the fox's bag as she slept, leaving a stone in her place, and escaped."_ ³

Mimzy had walked right up to the fox's snarling jaws of her own accord, and pressed a kiss to her silky fur.

Between her legs, Rosie flashed a vulpine smirk and ducked her head slightly to dip the tip of her tongue into the glistening pink heat of her cunt, licking her clit delicately as if testing the pressure. Mimzy moaned breathily, letting her head fall back and her eyes flutter shut as Rosie languidly trailed her tongue through her lust-swollen lips, her gentle touch agonisingly teasing.

Already, Mimzy could tell she wasn't going to last long. It was probably for the best - if she missed her segment of the showcase because Rosie was tongue-fucking her she might as well just die.

"Honey…" she breathed, her accent grown thick and heavy and her hand pressing gently on the back of Rosie's head. "Honey, quit teasin' now, c'mon… be nice t' me..."

Rosie smiled against her and snaked one of her hands under Mimzy's thigh, stroking her fingertip gently up and down her slit. With practised ease, she spread the shorter blonde's folds with two capable fingers and cooed happily as she licked from Mimzy's entrance to her clit, throwing her gentle movements aside in favour of firm, decisive licks that had the shorter blonde gasping for breath.

"Oh, yeah," Mimzy choked out, squeezing her thighs encouragingly around Rosie's head. "Yeah, baby, that's real good…"

Her fists opened and closed repeatedly in Rosie's hair as she squirmed under the ministrations of her attentive tongue, eventually prompting her to lift her head enough to watch. The sight tore a groan from her throat - Rosie's eyes had never left her and as she looked down, the woman between her legs drew back just enough to let her see the strand of slick glistening lewdly between her tongue and Mimzy's cunt.

"Oh, you-" the shorter blonde shook her head in scandalised disbelief, and Rosie chuckled huskily. If it were anyone else it would be risqué, but because it was _Rosie_ \- refined, elegant Rosie - it was downright _filthy_.

"Gonna fuckin' kill me," Mimzy gritted out, pushing her face firmly into her cunt and rolling her hips into the warmth of her mouth and tongue. "Y-you're gonna be the _death_ of me, I swear-"

Rosie fluttered her pretty lashes and pressed _hard_ , breaching Mimzy with the teasing partial fullness of her tongue and ripping a choked moan from her lips. She withdrew, and then pushed her tongue in deeper, wishing she'd had the good sense to trim her sharp nails so she could fuck Mimzy properly.

Her tongue would have to do, but it seemed to be doing the trick.

Mimzy gasped, pulling rhythmically at Rosie's hair with each rock of her hips and admiring the way her neat brows knitted upwards. She was difficult to decipher at the best of times, but even Mimzy could tell from the flush high on her cheekbones, the sweet crease of her delicate brow and the vibrations of tiny noises muffled against her cunt that she was enjoying this immensely.

Cupping her trembling hand around the dainty curve of Rosie's neck and stroking the pale skin with her thumb, Mimzy's voice came out as a hushed, adoring whisper.

" _Fuck_ , you're so _dirty_ …"

Rosie gazed up through heavy-lidded starlet eyes, and flicked her tongue just so.

Mimzy choked out a cry and crammed her knuckles into her mouth to muffle her moans, her thighs trembling as Rosie's tongue slid slickly between her glistening folds, her snub nose nudging against her swollen clit with each movement. She was getting close, pressure building like a vice in her lower belly, and unable to trust herself to be quiet she tugged Rosie's hair to let her know.

Those dark liquid eyes, darker than ever with lust and concentration, flicked upwards momentarily.

And suddenly those slender hands had tightened on her thighs, pulling her pussy flush to the taller woman's slick open mouth. The pressure of her lips and tongue increased tenfold and Mimzy let out a muffled whine, rolling her hips desperately as the pressure of Rosie's mouth settled over her clit and _sucked_.

With a cry that she couldn't quite muffle, she came, her legs shaking uncontrollably and her eyes squeezing tightly shut as she rode out her climax on Rosie's wicked tongue.

~~~

It felt like a good five minutes before Mimzy's shaking limbs and bucking hips had calmed enough to allow her to lift herself sleepily onto her elbows and register three distinct things.

Rosie was nestled against her slick inner thigh, licking it clean delicately and sending a fresh shock of arousal through her spent body.

She looked pretty all the time, but, Mimzy realised with a pang, she looked _ridiculously_ pretty with her lips wet and red, her dainty chin glistening with release and the top two buttons of her dress undone to expose a teardrop of pale cleavage.

And somebody, somebody they both knew and who would be more than scandalised to find them in such a compromising position, was cheerfully rapping at the door.

"Mimzy, my dear! I've been asked to fetch you, Blitz just finished his silk dance!"

"Fuckin' _Alastor_!" Mimzy hissed, sitting bolt upright. Rosie giggled and scooted out of the way, perching in the computer chair to watch as she tugged her panties back up and stood to pat her hair and dress back into place.

"Mimzy!" Alastor trilled from the other side of the door. "Don't make me pick the lock!"

"He's not bluffing," Rosie clarified, taking a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and dabbing at her lips with it as she let her hair down from its pins - there was no salvaging the elaborate updo. "He'll let himself in if you don't hurry up."

" _Will you shush_?" Mimzy hissed, presentable once more and fiddling with the door latch. It clicked open and, as if on cue, Alastor flung the door against the wall, forcing her to step smartly back.

"So you _are_ in here after all!" He crowed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. His eyes settled curiously on Rosie, who merely waved her fingers at him and tucked her handkerchief back into her pocket. "And Rosie too! You missed Husker's magic act, you know."

"A crying shame," she cooed, somehow managing to sound completely unaffected. Husk's magic wasn't anything to marvel at - candidly, she'd seen better from the hired magician at Franklin's sister's sixth birthday party.

She turned her gaze to Mimzy, her tongue catching between her teeth for a fleeting moment before she grinned. "And our dear Mimzy is up next, I presume?"

"Yeah." Mimzy straightened her back and readjusted her skirt, bravely returning Rosie's grin. Despite the close call, she couldn't find it in herself to feel nervous any longer. She pouted playfully, tilting her hip. "Aren't'cha comin' to watch me?"

"No, I thought I'd stay here," Rosie replied dryly, inspecting her nails. The moment Mimzy's smile started to slip, she grinned impishly, standing up to lean against the chair. "You silly goose, of course I'm coming to watch."

"Well, you ought to hurry," Alastor chipped in, nudging Mimzy with his elbow to guide her toward the door. "They won't wait forever." He paused, glancing back at Rosie quizzically. "Excuse my brashness, but I believe your dress is undone, dear."

"Oh, silly me," Rosie sighed flippantly, quickly buttoning up the top of her dress with practised dexterity. She caught Mimzy's eye momentarily and the shorter blonde bit her tongue, trying desperately not to laugh.

"How'd that happen, Rosie?" She asked slyly, feigning innocence.

"I haven't the slightest idea, my darling."

Her sharp-toothed grin was positively Reynardian⁴, and Mimzy matched it confidently with a grin of her own.

**Author's Note:**

> in-text notes:
> 
> (¹) I'm not entirely sure what monk means either, but I saw it used in a novel set in the 1800s and it seemed to fit in this context. I believe it means unwell, upset, miserable... something to that effect.
> 
> (²) Viv has said that her vc for Rosie is Barbara Streisand as Dolly Levi in _Hello, Dolly!_
> 
> (³) _The Sly Fox and the Little Red Hen_ is an old English fairytale about a hen who escapes from a fox by replacing her weight in his bag with stones. When the fox empties the bag into his cooking pot, the boiling water scalds him, and in some versions, his wife and children as well.
> 
> (⁴) Reynard is the name of the fox in _Aesop's Fables_.


End file.
